Sandra Cisneros, The House On Mango Street
I was on my way to work, zoned out listening to some old school Shania Twain to get my life right, when two construction worker types got on the train at Penn Station. They were both middle-aged white guys with Long Island accents, mustaches, dirty jeans — the type of guys you’d expect to see on a building site. I caught a piece of their conversation when the music died before the song changed, and I decided to record them.
I stopped by in Chinatown to cheer on some full-marathoners this morning. I don’t know what happened, but I felt so inspired and incredibly happy for them. And yes, I un-robot-ized and I swear some tears fell down my cheeks. It’s amazing what a person can do if they push their limits. I’ll join them someday.